


by degrees

by spheeris1



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Gen, Myka-centric thoughts about love, Season/Series 02, babbling what-not, somewhat introspective because that is my crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:00:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spheeris1/pseuds/spheeris1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Overall Myka vs. Love one-shot. Set during Season Two from 'For The Team' & through to 'Where And When'.  And I have no idea how to summarize this...</p><p>Myka has a method to her affections.</p><p>There ya go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	by degrees

/ /

She does it by degrees.

/

First, she glances and then she looks away – repeatedly – until she is, inevitably, caught. And then her cheeks burn bright as a stop-light in the middle of the night. For days after, she’ll chastise her own weaknesses and spend an inordinate amount of time not looking at all.

But, eventually, she’ll turn her gaze back to the object of her fascination.

And she’ll ache from a distance.

/

But that was fifteen and awkward and insecure.

Now, she holds a gun and stands like a statue beside political figures. Now, she strides into rooms and turns an aloof eye to the male posturing that never seems to go out of style.

Locker-room or government office, it makes no matter – boys will always be boys.

Except for a few.

Except for Sam.

Next, she allows a smile to cross her lips at a joke that isn’t at her expense and she feels that stuttering sensation of being a part of something – like her heart skipping a beat before the rest of her catches up.

She is no longer the last name called in some elementary-school line-up.

Sam lingers by her car door after the long day is done and, for once, Myka is the one who suggests that they have a drink in order to wind down.

/

But that was bravery when least expected, not with bullets but with emotions, and the eventual kick-back was almost too hard to take.

And so onto the shelf goes her notions of love, both the ones born in her childhood mind (the romance of adventure, all black print and bound by leather) and the ones forced upon her by life itself (kisses given willingly but they still felt like they had been stolen).

She’ll devote her affection to this new job. She’ll fall in love with these walls that house countless wonders and forget about the rest of the world.

Of course, making plans is for the foolish.

Everyone knows that that is the moment when the universe likes to throw you a curve ball.

/

And then she is flying.

Her mind struggles to wrap around this rush of momentum, to understand the space between the bottom of her feet and the ground below, and to accept the strong arm that is snug around her waist.

Her mind is struggling with so many things in this moment and last on that list – though not last at all when it comes to personal importance – is the fact that Myka feels complete safe, even as she dangles above the pavement with only some reinforced wire and another person as a form of security.

She shouldn’t feel safe at all, though.

This is H.G. Wells – who was supposed to be a man, who is supposed to be encased in bronze, who is (according to Artie) a villain of the highest order. She shouldn’t trust this woman at all – this woman who mysteriously shows up at every artifact retrieval, this woman who is conveniently around when people are hit by cars, this woman who killed a man in front of Myka and everyone else at the Warehouse.

And yet, there, in the corners of H.G. Wells smile, is a glimpse of something that Myka only thought existed in fairy tales…

…Or in the mind of a well-read, reclusive little girl still tucked away somewhere in Colorado Springs.

And as high as that shelf is, suddenly its surface seems uncomfortably close again.

/

She does it by degrees.

/

First, she glances and then she looks away – repeatedly – until she is, inevitably, caught. But Helena’s smile is indulgent and knowing and Myka’s blush isn’t as deep as it once would have been.

Next, the two of them laugh about something that only they comprehend, books and discoveries left behind as they speak in hushed tones as the rest of the bed-and-breakfast slumbers.

There won’t be an offer to have a drink, though.

But still…

…Helena lingers by her bedroom door and Myka knows that the day is coming when she will invite this woman into every part of her world; into this room, into this bed, into this heart that has finally returned to beating within Myka’s chest…

…The day is coming when Helena will be everywhere.

/

And, secretly, Myka cannot wait for that day to arrive.

/ /

 

**-end-**

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This is what happens when I get into a show & am feeling emotional. I write until I am spent.


End file.
